Not Ricky
by Aisalynn
Summary: While trying to save the world, Jake mourns. --Set after Age of Steel. Jake/Ricky, slight Jake/Mickey


**Disclaimer: I don't own. I'm not pretending to own. Don't sue. **

Jake heard footsteps coming from the dark street behind him and he turned around. Excitement and relief flooded into him when he saw the familiar figure running towards them, and he couldn't help the broad smile that made its way to his face.

"Here he is!" The smile faded as the man got close enough to him in the dim lamp light. The relief he felt was immediately replaced with confusion, and fear.

He couldn't remember if Ricky was wearing that jacket or not.

"Which one are you?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry…the Cybermen… I couldn't--" The words came out in a sort of mumbled gasp as the man tried to catch his breath. His eyes flickered between the group uncertainly as he spoke.

The fear grew stronger.

"Are you Ricky?" The man (_Ricky? Or not Ricky?) _didn't answer, but just looked around helplessly, and Jake felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. "_Are you Ricky?" _

The girl spoke up. "Mickey, that's you, isn't it?"

The man shot Jake an apologetic look before turning back to her. "Yeah." he said, and opened his arms as she ran towards him.

Jake held absolutely still.

_Ricky's dead_.

The word's hadn't been said, but Jake knew it, he could tell it from the expression on Mickey's face. There was no other option; Ricky wouldn't have let himself be turned into one of those Cybermen, he would have fought, would have died.

Dead. Gone. _Deleted._

He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I tried. He was running…" Mickey explained, arms wrapped around the blonde girl like Ricky's arms should have been wrapped around him.

Jake turned away.

"There were too many of them--"

"Shut it." He didn't need to hear it, didn't _want_ to hear it. Not from him, not in _that_ voice.

"There was nothing I could do…"

Jake whipped around. "I said just _shut it!_" He was angry. So angry that this man, this _double _had lived and Ricky hadn't. His anger burned away all warm feelings he once had for this Mickey, all the trust and loyalty he couldn't help but give him because of his face. "You're nothing you are!" He turned away again. It was hard to look at that face now. "Nothing."

_Not Ricky._

It was silent for just a moment, and then the Doctor spoke. "We can mourn him when London is safe. For now, we move on."

Maybe they would, Ricky thought as they made their way to the Cyberman factory, these people who didn't even know Ricky, didn't even belong to this world. Maybe they would go on with the mission, not to give the dead man a thought as they got the job done, putting it off until they were back on that ship or wherever it was they came from, where they might spend a few second's time thinking of how it was _oh so sad_, what happened to him. Maybe they would, but Jake wouldn't.

Jake would mourn now.

_Their first time wasn't gentle. It wasn't slow and loving, but rough, fast, and angry. They'd been drinking in Ricky's room, cheap whiskey that twisted his empty stomach in knots and went straight to his head. Jake knew he would regret it later, but right now it didn't matter. _

_They'd failed. _

_The new ear-pods had just come out. Now people were not only constantly connected to the same network, letting themselves be tracked and monitored, but they could receive Cybus's download's straight into their brains, receiving all the same information, all the same thoughts. _

_Like they were machines._

_Despite the information that had been given to them by their inside contact, Gemini, they hadn't been able to stop it. Cybus was just too powerful. And what's more, their old school mate, Tommy, had been one of the many to rush out for the latest upgrade. They'd tried to tell him not to get it, that Cybus was up to no good and that he shouldn't trust anything they made, that by purchasing their products the world was slowly giving up the very things that made them human. Tommy had just laughed, called them ridiculous and went to wait in line at the nearest tech store. _

_Such failures like these, Ricky had bitterly muttered, needed to be drowned out in alcohol. _

_Which is how they ended up here. _

_Ricky's nails dug into his skin as he pinned Jake's wrists above his head, gripping them so hard Jake knew there would be bruises. The wood floor was cold against his back, and Jake spared a thought for the bed not five feet from them but decided it didn't matter. He'd wanted, dreamed of this for _months_, and he wasn't stopping or pausing for anything now. _

_They kissed roughly, mouths open and teeth clanging together, biting and gnawing at each other's lips hard enough to draw blood. Jake groaned as the other man entered him, and Ricky ripped his mouth away, giving a short gasp directly into Jake's ear with each thrust of his hips. _

"_This," Ricky muttered hoarsely, "is what they're giving up."_

_Jake wrapped his legs around Ricky, letting the other man control the rhythm, unable to do anything more than gasp as the combination of pleasure and pain flooded his senses. _

"_Emotion. Passion." Ricky's voice was gruff in his ear, his breath skating across the skin of Jakes neck, making him shudder. "They're letting themselves be controlled by a computer, giving away all freedom and spontaneity. This," he gasped, "is what makes us human."_

_Jake leaned his head back against the hard floor, closing his eyes and letting the motion of their bodies and the rhythm of Ricky's voice carry him away. _

It was cold on the hill. Jake's breath came out in little puffs of white as he stood there, staring off into the night sky. The others were near the picnic table, huddled around Mrs. Moore and her computer as they tried to plan what to do.

_Ricky should be here, pacing the ground impatiently and knocking down idiotic ideas with cutting words and harsh glares. _

He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. They hadn't been separated for an hour when he saw Mickey running through the street. How, in such short a time can a man go from living, planning, thinking… to not existing?

_Deleted._

Jake clenched his fists. Oh, how he _hated_ those cyber-freaks.

"There's another way in," Pete was saying, "through the front door. If they're taking Jackie for upgrading that's how she'll get in."

_Is he crazy? _

Jake marched over there, if Ricky wasn't here to shoot down stupid ideas, then he'd do it. "You can't just go strolling up." _Idiot._

"Well, we could…" Mrs. Moore pulled something out of her bag, "with these." As she held up her hand the light from the factory glinted off small metal lumps. "Fake ear-pods. Dead. No signal." The Doctor took one and examined it. "But put them on and the Cybermen will mistake you for one of the crowd."

Jake had to admit, the idea sounded better with those. If they could manage to conceal their emotions. He'd doubted at first that the girl could do it, but seeing her determination as she talked to the Doctor changed that. He was more concerned now about Peter. He'd proven himself very emotional, especially when it came to his wife.

"Tell you what…" the Doctor began, "We can attack the ear-pods at the same time. Give people their minds back, so they don't walk into that place like sheep. Jakey boy!" The Doctor walked to the edge of the hill, gesturing for Jake to follow him.

_Jakey boy?_

Who was this guy? How is it that he'd apparently only been in this world for less than a day and yet he'd taken control, made plans, gave orders? How did he know so much about the Cybermen?

_And who travels between parallel worlds anyway? Is this guy for real?_

"Lumic's transmitting the control signal; it must be from over there." He took out what seemed to be a small blue flashlight and clicked it a few times. "There it is, on the zeppelin, see?" Jake didn't, but he guessed that didn't matter. "Reckon you can take it out?"

That was just what he needed, something for him to do, to take his mind off of Ricky. Something reckless, something _dangerous._ He grinned. "Consider it done."

The Doctor walked back to the table. "We'll attack from three sides: above, between, below. We get to the control center we can stop the conversion machines."

"What about me?"

Jake's breath caught in his throat. He'd been trying to ignore him. Trying to forget he existed, this man who looked so much like Ricky.

"Uh, Mickey…" The Doctor didn't look like he knew what to say. "You can… um…"

"What? Stay out of trouble, be the tin dog? No, those days are over, I'm going with Jake." He walked around the table.

What? No. _No._ "I don't need you, idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot, got that? I'm offering to help."

Jake was suddenly faced with what he was trying to ignore all night: Ricky's face in front of him, Ricky's voice in his ears, Ricky's eyes boring into his, challenging him, like they so often did before.

His own flesh and blood ghost.

He didn't think he could take this and stay sane. But how could he say no?

"Whatever."

_Ricky pulled the van up to the sidewalk, right in front of the door to the apartment building where they were supposed to meet their--hopefully--new techie, Mrs. Moore. _

"_Uh, Ricky?" Jake began, "You can't park here. It's illegal." _

_Ricky didn't show any reaction, just put the car in park and shut off the engine. "Yeah, so?"_

"_Well…" Jake was at a loss. "That means you're not supposed to do it." _

_Ricky turned to him, a rare, wry grin curling on his mouth. "And you do everything you're supposed to do, yeah?"_

"_Well, no."_

"_Isn't this what we are supposed to do? Fight the system?"_

_Jake raised his eyebrows. "By parking wherever you want?" _

_His smile grew bigger. "Why not? Fight it anyway you can, that's what I say. By doing this we are sending them a message: we'll not conform to their ideas of what the world should be like. We exist to defy them." _

_Fighting through parking? It sounded kind of silly to Jake. But Ricky hadn't smiled like that in a long time, and that mischievous look in is eyes…it reminded him of the old Ricky, back in their school days, before Cybus and the rebellion. _

_He grinned and clasped Ricky's shoulder. "Right. Let's send them a message." With that he hopped out of the car._

_An hour later, after they had met with Mrs. Moore, who had been introduced to them by another member of The Preachers, they exited the building and walked to the van. Jake supposed there had never been anybody who was as happy as they were to see a parking ticket on their window. _

Jake hopped over the wall on the roof, landing quietly and instantly falling into a crouch. He ran across the roofing, darting out of the light and pressing close to the wall so as not to be seen by the guards. He heard soft footsteps behind him and then Mickey was there, next to him, so close he could feel the body heat from him.

Jake pressed closer to the wall.

"Two guards," he told him. "We can take 'em."

"Don't kill them."

Jake glared. He didn't like this man giving orders, he sounded too much like _him._ "And who put you in charge?" he snapped.

"If you kill 'em, what's the difference between you and a Cyberman?"

Jake was silent for a minute. Compassion. Forgiveness. Mercy. Weren't those human qualities? Ricky may have been ruthless at times, but his main goal was always about preserving humanity. He wouldn't want Jake to sacrifice his.

"Well, I suppose we could use these." He dug one of the little brown bottles out of his pocket and handed it to Mickey.

"Smelling salts?"

He grinned. "A bit stronger than that. One of Mrs. Moore's little tricks. Should knock them out." He looked in the direction of the guards, made sure they weren't looking their way. "Now…" he whispered, "Three, two, one…"

They ran.

_Jake sighed contentedly against Ricky's bare shoulder. It was one of those rare times when they had nothing to do: no Cybus agents to spy on, no information to gather, no parking tickets to collect. One of the few times when Ricky had let go enough of his anger to allow them to just relax and _be.

_Ricky's arm was tucked around him, keeping Jake close against his side. He could feel Ricky's fingertips on his skin, running idly over his stomach, following the line of his ribs, tracing patterns up and down his side. He stared at his own hand, which was curled around Ricky's bicep. Jake decided he liked the way his pale skin contrasted with Ricky's dark skin in the late afternoon sun. _

"_You know," Ricky said softly, "sometimes I feel like I should give it all up. Just give up the fight and pack my bags, get out of this crazy place while it falls apart. Run away."_

"_Mmm…" Jake pressed himself closer. "Where would you go?"_

_Ricky was quiet for a moment, the only noise was the soft rustling as he moved his hand along Jake's skin. Jake drowsily closed his eyes. _

"_Paris."_

_Jake shifted. "Hmm?"_

"_Paris. We could go to Paris. Imagine it: you and me, just taking the Chunnel there one day, getting ourselves a hotel room. Dinners at open cafés on the street, taking a boat ride on the Seine…" _

_Jake could imagine it: days spent with Ricky, walking down the tree lined avenue's of Paris, peering into all the white painted shops, nights spent in the hotel room, sweaty and tangled in the sheets, mornings spent sleeping in each other's arms… perfect. Like this moment now. _

_He sat up. "Why don't we do it?"_

_Ricky squinted at him. "What?"_

"_Why don't we do it?" He was really excited now. "Lets just go, pack our bags and go. Just like you said." _

_Ricky pushed Jake away and sat up. "Don't be a fool, Jake," he said gruffly. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his jeans. "Of course we can't go. It was just a stupid dream."_

_Jake didn't move from the bed. "It doesn't have to be."_

_Ricky sighed and looked down at his shoes. "Look, we've got responsibilities here. We can't just leave when we get tired of it. Cybus is still out there, and we need to fight them."_

_Cybus. It was an obsession with him. Ever since his mum, terrible parent though she was, disappeared off the streets just like all those other people. There was never any time for anything else, never any time to _live.

_Ricky stood up and pulled on his shirt, the time for peace and contentment gone. He headed for the door. _

_But Jake wasn't ready to give up on it yet. "Maybe someday then, yeah?"_

_Ricky stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around. "Someday. Yeah." His tone was flat. Emotionless._

_He walked out, not even bothering to close the door behind him. _

Jake had to admit that this Mickey wasn't a complete screw up, once you got a computer in front of him. He was confident and demanding, barking out orders and pushing him aside impatiently so he could do the job himself.

It was almost like having Ricky here with him.

And that thing with the Cyberman, egging it on and deliberately drawing attention to himself, so that it would try to hit Mickey and miss, taking out the ear-pods instead--that's exactly like something Ricky would have done.

It was hard to remember, when Mickey wrapped an arm around his shoulder, jumping and pumping his fist and crying, "The transmitter's down!" that it really wasn't Ricky beside him.

The clicking sound from the keyboard was constant as Mickey worked, fingers moving too fast for Jake to follow.

"Hold on…" Mickey muttered, "I've logged on to Cyber Control." The tiny screen flashed and then showed the control room. "They're alive! The Doctor and Rose--there they are!"

_Yes, you're friends are alive, but not Ricky._

Jake tasted something bitter in the back of his throat. "Never mind them, what the hell is that thing?" he pointed to the screen, where in the control room the Doctor was talking to a Cyberman. Only this one was different: it was hooked up to what looked like a huge throne of some sort.

"Shh! Has this thing got sound?" He pressed a few keys and suddenly they could hear what was being spoken.

A flat, digital voice came out of the speakers. "I will bring peace to world. Everlasting peace. And unity. And _uniformity_."

Well, shit. Jake guessed that was the leader of the Cybermen then.

They listened as the Doctor preached to the Cyberman about the value of humanity. He pranced up an down the screen, waving his arms and deliberately getting in Cybermen's faces. Several times he looked back at the camera, as if he knew they watching.

"You just don't get it, do you? Those ordinary people, they're the key. The most ordinary person could change the world! Some ordinary man or woman…some _idiot--_" Ricky--no, _Mickey_--stiffened beside him, eyes wide as he stared at the screen. "All it takes is for him to find, say the right numbers, say the right _code…_ "

What was he going on about? Jake didn't have a clue.

"Say, for example, the code behind the Emotional Inhibitor, the code right in front of him."

The _Emotional Inhibitor._ Of _course._

This Doctor was absolutely brilliant.

"Even an _idiot_ knows computers these days, knows how to get past firewalls, and passwords…"

"That's it!" Mickey breathed.

"Knows how to find something encrypted in the Lumic family database under--what was it, Pete? Binary what?"

"Binary nine."

"Binary nine!" The clicking sound picked up again as Mickey's fingers flew over the keyboard. The numbers of the code appeared on the screen as he typed.

_Come on, come on_… Jake thought. Three numbers were on the screen.

"And he'd keep on typing, keep on fighting." The Doctor looked right at the camera. "Anything to save his friends!"

All the numbers were on the screen, and the Doctor said something about Rose's phone, once again, looking directly at the camera.

"The phone!" Mickey gasped, digging into his pocket. He quickly typed up the code and sent it to them.

The Doctor turned away from the camera and addressed the Cyberman. "Lets not forget how you seduced all those lovely people in the first place: by making every piece of technology compatible with everything else."

_Using Cybus's own system against them… That Doctor _is_ brilliant!_

The Doctor caught the phone that Rose tossed to him. "Like this." And he slammed it into the plug.

The effect was immediate. It was as if all the Cybermen just came alive: they were screaming and howling, grabbing at their head and arms, falling to their knees in despair when they realized what happened to them.

Jake jumped up and down, pumping his fist into the air. "Yes! Yes! We did it!" He threw his arms around the other man, "We did it, Ricky!"

Then he pulled back, grasped both sides of his face, and kissed him full on the mouth.

"Whoa--_whoa!_" The other man pulled away, palms out as if to ward him off. "I'm not Ricky, remember? I'm _Mickey._"

Jake stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open, absolutely dumbfounded at what he just did. For the second time that night, it was like he couldn't breathe. Mickey's eyes (_Ricky's eyes)_ were full of pity as he stared back.

Jake closed his so he wouldn't have to look at them.

"Look, mate," Mickey said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

_Oh, god…_

"Forget it." He opened eyes, jerked his shoulder away. "Come on, let's take this zeppelin and get out of here."

_Jake watched from the doorway kitchen doorway as the other Ricky (what was it he said his name was? Mickey?) pulled his clothes back on. It was eerie, having him here. Everything about him was just like Ricky, even down to the tattoo on his arm. _

_Well, everything except his eyes. _

_Ricky's eyes were hard, harsh even. Eyes that were set under constantly furrowed brows and a permanently scowling face. But this Mickey… there was something a little more gentle about him, a sort of innocent befuddlement that Jake couldn't help admit he found appealing. _

_The double, Mickey, looked nervously around the kitchen as he slipped his jacket on, tied his boots. _

"_Like what you see?" a low voice whispered in his ear. A hand grabbed him and roughly pulled him into the dark hallway, a warm body pressed him against the wall. _

"_Ricky!" Jake gasped. He flushed under that hard gaze, though he wasn't sure why. It's true he _had_ liked what he saw, but it wasn't any different than if he'd been looking at Ricky, right? He shot a glance at the kitchen door. "It's freaky, isn't it? How much he looks like you?"_

_Ricky leaned forward so their faces were just inches a part. "Well, you better just remember that he's not me," he growled. "I saw how close you were getting with that scanner."_

_Jake chuckled and pushed him lightly. "Aw, come off it." _

"_No, you listen!" He hissed grabbing Jake's shoulders and slamming him back against wall. "He may have my face, my voice, my _body_, but he is not me. Got that, Jake? He. Is. Not. Me." And without waiting for an answer he closed the space between and them and kissed him, hard, forcing Jake's mouth open with his tongue and running it along the line of his teeth, biting at his scraping his teeth along his lower lip, fingers digging harshly into Jake's shoulder as he did so._

_And Jake forgot all about Mickey the Double as he kissed him back with equal fervor, because _this_ was what he loved about Ricky Smith. His passion. The rush of pure emotion he put into everything: the joy, love, pain, even anger, even jealousy. The fearless way he lived his life. And Jake would throw away any amount gentle and confused looks--for moments like these. _

_They pulled apart, gasping, and Ricky leaned his forehead against Jake's. He could feel the moisture of their mingled breath warm their skin as they breathed, hear the sound of it echoing in the empty hall. _

"_You better be careful tonight." Jake whispered, moving his hand from where it gripped Ricky's shoulder and curling it gently around his neck. He could feel the pulse racing underneath his fingertips. _

_Ricky gave him a half grin, eyes warm. "You too. Don't want anything to happen to that pretty boy face of yours, yeah?" He tugged playfully at one of Jake's spikes, chuckling when Jake immediately swatted his hand away. "Come on," he said, giving Jake's shoulder one last squeeze. "Let's get to the van." And he walked into the kitchen to get the others._

_Jake followed and this time, his eyes never strayed from _his_ Ricky. _

Jake shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he and Mickey walked down the empty London streets. It was late, but dawn was still far off and the cold bit at his hands and face. He shot a glare towards Mickey.

"You mean to tell me, we just spent thirty minutes digging around the grass near Peter's house, looking for a _suit?_"

Mickey just shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's the Doctor's suit, you see." As if that explained everything.

Maybe it did.

For a while the only sound was that of their footsteps on the pavement. It was weird, seeing London so empty; even after curfew there was usually some noise, some life.

Over six thousand people had been turned into Cybermen, and were now dead. And that's not even counting the number of people who got _deleted_.

Jake tried not to think about that.

"Hey," Mickey said suddenly. "Are you still gonna fight? Go to all them Cyber factories and try to shut 'em down?"

Jake sighed, kicked at a stray pebble. "I s'pose so." _It's what Ricky would do. _

"Well…" he hesitated. "What would you say if I were to stay here. You know, help out?"

Jake's stomach clenched. To have him stay here, to see Ricky's face and yet it not be Ricky, to always remind him of what he had, of what he'd lost. The idea made him ache somewhere inside. But if he thought about it, he knew it was a good idea. He had the whole world to save from the Cybermen, and he couldn't do it alone. Mickey had proven himself useful tonight--he'd be a fool to turn down his help.

"I guess that could work," he muttered.

"Great." Mickey smiled, but still didn't look quite happy.

"Here it is!" Mickey called out when they caught up with the Doctor and Rose. "I found it--not a crease."

"My suit!" The Doctor smiled broadly as he took it from him. "Good man!"

Apparently the suit _was_ a big deal.

He turned to Jake. "Now then, Jake, we've got to run. But one more thing: Mrs. Moore. Her real name was Angela Price. She's got a husband out there, and children. Find them. Tell them how she died saving the world."

"Yeah, of course I will." Angela Price? Really. It never crossed his mind that Mrs. Moore wasn't her real name.

"Off we go then!" He started to turn around.

Mickey stopped him. "Uh, the thing is…I'm staying."

"You're doing what?" Even after this whole, terrible night, that was the first time Jake had seen that man shocked. He looked utterly nonplussed. And that was nothing to the expression on the girl's face.

"You can't!" she cried.

"It all balances out," Mickey explained, "'cause this world lost it's Ricky, but there's me." He stuttered to a stop, taking a few controlling breaths before he continued. "And there's still work to be done, with all the Cybermen still out there."

She shook her head, and sniffed back tears. "But you can't stay."

Jake looked away, trying not to listen to the conversation. He was sure there was a long story between them, but he didn't want to know it. It seemed so wrong, watching what looked to be Ricky, having such an emotional moment with a girl Jake didn't even know.

_But you don't know him, either, because that isn't Ricky. _

_He's _not_ Ricky_.

Jake told himself that as they talked about Mickey's gran, as he said goodbye to the Doctor, as he and the girl exchanged tearful words about their childhood together. Jake tried to smother the anger and jealousy he felt when they embraced.

"Go on, don't miss your flight," Mickey muttered into her shoulder. She ran to he police box, wiping at tears and stopping to look back one more time at Mickey before she shut the door.

"Jake, you'll want to watch this."

He looked over curiously, and dropped his mouth as the police box started to fade away. "What the hell?"

So the Doctor had been telling the truth all along. Jake had half believed they were all crazy.

"Come on then," Mickey said, walking away from where the police box disappeared from. "Let's get to the van."

Jake stood there for a moment, taking deep breaths as he tried to fight the fresh wave of pain those words brought.

"_Come on," Ricky said, pulling away and squeezing his shoulder, which was tender with newly formed bruises. "Let's get to the van."_

Jake reached up and touched his left shoulder, feeling the slight pain that was still there, letting it remind him.

"_He may have face, my voice, my body, but he's not me. Got that, Jake?"_

He wouldn't allow himself to forget--Jake swore it. No matter what, he wouldn't let himself forget that.

_Goodbye, Ricky…_

Jake took one last, steeling breath of the cold night air, and walked after Mickey.


End file.
